ZAFAR Iqbal’s poetic talent is unbridled. He writes profusely and at a speed that knows no limit. He is the most prolific poet of our times. His critic, Shamsur-Rahman Farooqi, has cited in his favour the example of Mushafi, the 19th century distinguished poet. Mushafi, he says, was an untiring writer. His readers, in spite of their admiration for him, so often felt tired of him. But Mushafi himself never felt tired. Untiringly, he kept on writing. Zafar Iqbal is the Mushafi of our times. He doesn’t believe in granting respite to his readers. He carries on writing at a brisk pace, sparing a moment of rest neither to himself nor to his readers.
But these days Zafar Iqbal has taken a pause, because of the need for collecting all what he has been churning out. All of it cannot be stuffed into one volume. So it has been planned that a collection of his poetic works be brought out in three volumes under the title Ab Tak (till now). But don’t consider it a final collection. The title seems to suggest that these are tentative three volumes. After all, the poet is still alive and busy with his writing. In response to the publication of Ab Tak a tired reader may ask Kab Tak (how long). The poet may well retort, “Till the end of my tether.”
However, the readers have been granted one concession. Multi Media Affairs Lahore has planned to publish this series of three volumes, out of which only one has come out. Azhar Ghori, in his publisher’s note, has quoted Zafar Iqbal saying that not before 50 years after his death critics of Urdu literature will be able to find out if there was anything worthwhile in his ghazals. That means that present-day readers of Zafar Iqbal are required simply to go through his ghazals. They need not bother about finding any meaning in his poetic endeavours. They can well postpone this job for future readers and critics who will appear 50 years after the death of the poet.
But why should Zafar Iqbal have the apprehension of being misunderstood and postpone the matter of understanding his ghazals to a period of 50 years? He is in a very happy position, enjoying the support of one of the most distinguished critics of our times, Shamsurrahman Farooqi, who is always ready to defend and interpret all his poetic vagaries in a convincing way. Who else, from the linguistic reconstruction group with which he had aligned himself, has had the luck to have such a defender pleading his case?
This little group of rebels had made their appearance in the ‘60s and staged their first entry into Lahore’s Tea House. They used to chant the slogan of linguistic reconstruction and created a stir within the bounds of the restaurant. Beyond the Tea House the situation was different. Different literary circles, particularly literary journals, regarded their experimentation with language while composing poetry as an exercise in futility, and ridiculed it.
But Zafar Iqbal had already earned recognition as a poet winning praise for his ghazals, which are included in his first collection Aab-i-Ravan. But after joining the rebel group, he too had to face problems regarding his experimental ghazals. Farooqi, in his preface to the collected volume under discussion, has wondered that even literary journals of Punjab were not ready to accommodate Zafar’s new ghazals. Shabkhoon, says he, was the only journal that welcomed his ghazals written in broken Urdu.
However, there must be something meaningful in these ghazals that has helped him to outlive his group. The liberty they took with language cost them dearly. It turned out to be a death warrant to them. Zafar Iqbal is the lone survivor. There is no journal which will now not like to publish him. They rather yearn to be patronized by him. Despite this fact, his ghazals are still controversial. That’s why Zafar Iqbal, according to Farooqi, is the most controversial poet of our times.
But why should Zafar Iqbal feel worried about being controversial? And why should he be judged by those who will be born 50 years after his passing away? Farooqi is here to justify his frolicking with language with all the weaponry of criticism at his disposal. And he will not mind sacrificing Hali, Hasrat, and Firaq if that serves his purpose of defence. The difficulty is, he says, that people like to read Zafar Iqbal in the light of the poetics constructed by such poets. This kind of poetics, according to him, is based on a lack of awareness of classical poetry. In defence of Zafar Iqbal’s verses he refers to Mir, Mushafi, Jurat, Insha, Nazir, and Ghalib. Who can question Zafar Iqbal’s ghazal when it’s compared with the verse-wielding of great masters of Urdu poetry?
ZAFAR Iqbal’s poetic talent is unbridled. He writes profusely and at a speed that knows no limit. He is the most prolific poet of our times. His critic, Shamsur-Rahman Farooqi, has cited in his favour the example of Mushafi, the 19th century distinguished poet. Mushafi, he says, was an untiring writer. His readers, in spite of their admiration for him, so often felt tired of him. But Mushafi himself never felt tired. Untiringly, he kept on writing. Zafar Iqbal is the Mushafi of our times. He doesn’t believe in granting respite to his readers. He carries on writing at a brisk pace, sparing a moment of rest neither to himself nor to his readers.
